Regret
by Fawkes.IS.Epic.Pheonix
Summary: Does not fit.


**A/N: This is my response to Writers Duel 2012 Prompt 2: Changing Impressions. This retells, from Grindewald's Point of View, the night that Lord Voldemort came to Nurmengard to question him. It is told in 3****rd**** Person Omniscient. The italics section is a flashback and is told in First Person from Grindewald's Point of View. Just so you know, when I imagine Grindewald speaking I imagine him with Victor Krum's accent! I hope you enjoy it.**

**-Fawkes**

**Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

_Regret- An Epiphany of Sorts_

Gellert Grindewald sat in a heap against the wall in the topmost cell of Nurmengard Prison. The prison was a tall, round stone structure with bars enclosing the windows. Grindewald himself had built the prison when he decided that he needed a place to lock up his enemies and political opponents. However, when he was defeated by Albus Dumbledore, he was locked within the confines of his own prison.

He gazed forlornly out through the bars, seeing the large gate to the prison, and beyond to the cliffs that rose from the churning sea. The frigid wind swept over the fields, whipping up the grass and bending the trees. However, Gellert could feel none of this, as the wards around the prison kept out the elements. All he could feel was the layer of grime on his body, the filth he sat in, and the still, musty air.

Suddenly, the quiet of the night was shattered, as a dome of superheated air became visible surrounding the prison. It crackled with energy. It shattered inward under the onslaught of whatever forces attacked it. As the plasma came towards the ground, it set the trees and buildings on fire. As the air cleared of plasma, a burst of pure energy ripped through the air. It smashed into the wall of the prison, and crushed it with the brute force.

The debris and smoke chocked the air, drifting in small eddies. As the air cleared, movement became visible. An indistinguishable mass of black smoke soared through the air, before rematerializing in the gap in the wall. A gaunt white face atop a thin, black-cloaked body appeared in the fissure.

The man smiled insanely and said, "A pleasure to finally meat you, Grindewald. I have heard great things about you─ about the things you did. But, I admit, I am disappointed. All I see in you is a broken, pathetic excuse for an old man." His voice was cold and high.

"You are making a mistake," Gellert replied, his voice raspy and dry.

"Pathetic!" Voldemort shrieked, "And you call yourself a dark wizard? You are not fit to walk upon the same ground as me, to breathe same air. Now tell me, where is it?" His voice became deadly and low as voiced his last question.

"I do not know what you are talking about."

"The Elder Wand! Where is it?"

"I do not know what you are talking about."

"Don't lie to me! I am the Dark Lord. I will break into your mind, rip out your secrets, and make you insane. By the time I am done, you will be begging to die, begging for me to put you out of your misery."

With this, he raised his wand and screeched, "Crucio!"

The pain shot through Grindewald, as his body writhed in the air just above the ground. It burned with the pain of a thousand white-hot knives being plunged into his skin. His ears rang with his own screams, and the edges of his vision went dark with the pain.

'How funny,' he thought to himself, 'that as the man who had once rained terror upon the wizarding world, he was now being subjected, for the first time, to the curse he had made so many people suffer through.'

The pain stopped abruptly, and Grindewald fell numbly against the edge of his cot, collapsing onto the ground in a pile. His breathing was labored as he looked up towards Voldemort. The man stood smiling crazily, fingering his long, thin wand.

He asked quietly, "Have you had enough, old man?"

Grindewald wondered to himself, 'I don't think it can hurt if I tell him I know about the wand.' He weighed his options and finally decided to divulge the truth; however, not the whole truth.

"Fine, I know the wand exists, though I swear I do not know where it is!"

"Do not lie to me." His voice was quiet and deadly, as his smile disappeared from his face.

With another cry of, "Crucio!" Grindewald began to thrash through the air in excruciating pain.

Voldemort laughed as he saw the broken old man collapse onto the ground after his most recent dose of torture. His laugh was terrifying and insane, much more evil than his smile or his scream. It made him sound crazy, as if he was a spawn of the devil himself.

"Where is it?"

In that moment, Grindewald thought to himself, 'Should I tell him? They have no hope of defeating him with it, but he may spare me, he may let me live whatever pitiful life I have left. The pain will end, but everyone else will die. He will kill them and enslave them.'

For the first time ever, Grindewald felt regret at what he had done throughout his life. He had killed men without a second thought, slaughtered defenseless muggles, and brought about the death of a sweet, young girl, Ariana Dumbledore.

Gellert wondered what Albus would think if he could see the remorse that he felt for his actions─ the remorse that he felt for killing Ariana. He looked into the slitted red eyes of Voldemort and wondered whether he should lie, or tell Voldemort to escape pain and his immediate death.

On one hand, he would be responsible for the death of hundreds, and the enslavement of so many more, but on the other, he would live on. He looked deep within himself, and came to the hard decision that he would die before he would be responsible for the death of so many, and the destruction of an entire society. He refused to be accountable for the destruction of wizardkind.

"I do not know!"

"Crucio!"

Grindewald lay panting on the ground and wheezed, "I will not tell you!"

"So you know, "Voldemort responded with a triumphant shriek.

"And I will never tell you."

As he looked into Voldemort's hate-filled, red eyes, he saw the malicious glint and the evil twinkle. Suddenly, he felt as if he were being whisked off his feet, thrown into the air, and dropped a long way. He hit a hard surface and blacked out. When his eyes reopened and he regained consciousness, he lay in the middle of a foggy, white plain, nothingness stretching until the horizon.

As he lay there, the mist began to swirl and form the hazy outline of people and buildings. He felt the oddest feeling of déjà vu. The lines became more distinct and the air cleared. Grindewald was stunned to see himself, but with thick brown hair, unwrinkled skin, and clear, alert eyes. With a start, Grindewald realized that this was the moment of his duel with Albus in the center of Berlin.

_ I stood facing Albus, my wand held pointing downwards; my eyes darting around as I took in the crowds of people come to watch the two most powerful wizards in the world face off. _

_Albus looked at me with sadness and regret filled eyes and said, "Gellert, there is still time for you to surrender, to repent, to redeem yourself."_

"_This is how it should be, Albus. Muggles forced to kneel before us, muggleborns rotting in jails, and blood-traitors exterminated. I will create a new world order. The world will be remade by my hand. You could have ruled it with me, but you are too weak, too afraid to unleash the power of more dangerous magics."_

_I saw a single tear fall down his pale face, before he whispered, "I am sorry I must do this, Gellert, but you leave me no choice."_

_ So fast that I am sure many onlookers missed it, Albus raised his wand and sent a powerful curse at my chest. I dodged it and threw a Conjunctivitis Curse at his face, knowing that his eyes were a weak point. He blocked it, and made Fiendfyre spurt from his wand._

_ It writhed and coiled into the air, forming into the shapes of mythical beasts. I performed a powerful vacuum charm to suck away all the oxygen. Without its fuel, the magical fire soon petered out. While I was focused on the fire, Albus transfigured the ground beneath my feet into molten lead. Before I could sink in, I cast a quick charm to reverse the effects of the heat from the molten metal. I then banished it, and faced Albus. _

_ He sent a high speed barrage of spells at me, and I threw up a fast Escutcheon Charm. It was a very powerful shield, but under the onslaught of so many spells, it caved inwards and I had to clumsily block the remaining spells with a fast Shield Charm. _

_ I was fast enough to stop all but one spell__ Albus' last spell, the Disarming Charm. Before I could react, the wand was ripped from my grasp and flew through the air into Albus' waiting hand. He threw a stunner at me, and I attempted to wandlessly block it, but the spell was too powerful for a wandless shield. _

_My last thought as my vision went black was, 'No, he has the Elder Wand.' _

He suddenly felt as if he was being ripped off the ground and thrown upwards. His mind began to spin, and when he recovered he found himself sitting against the wall in his prison cell. Voldemort was looking at him, a triumphant smirk plastered across his face.

"I have all I need," he said victoriously, "Avada Kedavra!"

As the stunning green curse arced through the air towards him, life seemed to slow for Gellert Grindewald. He wondered whether his denial had saved anyone, whether he had done the right thing. If he had told him would it have ended better, would he have survived?

He decided that Voldemort would have most likely killed him anyway. The regret pounding in his heart made him feel weak. As the curse grew closer his last thoughts were, 'I am sorry, Albus. I am sorry, Ariana. I am sorry for what I did to the wizarding world. I can only wish that it was enough to redeem myself for all the lives I took and the even more that I ruined.'

The green light smote him in the chest and he collapsed backwards, his eyes sightless, the world black. His body crumpled to the ground and Voldemort let out a high peal of laughter. As he turned away from the body of what was once the most evil wizard to live, Voldemort fired the dark mark into the night sky with a cry of, "Morsmordre!"

He stepped off the edge of the tower, and before he could fall, his body was replaced with a cloud of black smoke. He flew towards England, towards the tomb of Albus Dumbledore, set on finally gaining possession of the most powerful wand that was ever made.

**A/N: Thank you for reading my fiction. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review. Thanks!**

**-Fawkes**


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